


Carefully hidden truth

by Uncle_Roderich



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: AU, M/M, my apologies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 10:53:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16911582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uncle_Roderich/pseuds/Uncle_Roderich
Summary: “Is your hatred for me so strong you cannot stand to be in one room with me for but a few hours?” Haytham asked, bitter amusement in his voice.‘No.’ Thought Connor.“Yes.” He said.





	Carefully hidden truth

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I want to say thanks to my dear friend German, also known as Haapsulu, for encouraging me to write and share this. Your support means so much to me, thank you! <3  
> _____  
> Now... I guess I should mention the obligatory "English is not my first language, and I have never used it for anything serious before (apart from university, obviously...)."  
> This is not my first fanfiction, but it is first in a good while. (Hopefully, not last though!) What I'm saying is I'm sorry if there are mistakes or some of the sentences sound off. This is certainly a learning experience, in terms of both writing practice and my own self-confidence.
> 
> Enjoy!

This was perhaps the worst Winter the colonies had to deal with in over a decade, if not longer. Cold winds were ruthless to travelers, soldiers and local citizens alike, and it really started to feel as if the snow would never stop falling. Haytham and Connor finally reached Lexington and went straight to a tavern, else they would freeze to death after so much time spent struggling against the unrelenting force of nature.

After a brief talk with the owners and a hot meal, father and son went up to their rented room, both in desperate need of rest. Haytham sighed and sat down on the edge of one of the beds, taking off his hat and coat. His eyes rested on the assassin, who grabbed a chair and went to the farther corner of the room, before setting it down and sitting himself. Without sparing a single glance at his father and roommate, he proceeded to check over his equipment, apparently thinking of what he needed fixed or replaced while they were in the town.

“Is your hatred for me so strong you cannot stand to be in one room with me for but a few hours?” Haytham asked, bitter amusement in his voice.

‘No.’ Thought Connor.

“Yes.” He said.

Haytham scoffed and turned away, taking off the rest of his outer layers of clothing along with boots, then finally rested his tired body on the bed, turning his back to his companion. He did not notice neither the gaze of the assassin’s eyes as they fixed on his figure, nor the carefully hidden emotions behind them, and after a few moments of silent contemplation, Connor returned to inspecting his bow.

***

“Where are you going now?” Haytham’s voice was calm, and yet it almost seemed too loud after the two spent most of the evening in relative silence.

The weather has been considerably better for several days now. Of course, the Winter did not just step away completely, deep snow and harsh winds being evidence to that, but at least they did not have to wait out a blizzard in the middle of the frontier. The mission they were working on has been dealt with, and now they were resting and awaiting the results, which would hopefully appear soon enough in the form of army reinforcements making their way to a nearby fort without anything or anyone in their way. After that... Well, they did not actually have any reason to keep working together, so it would only make sense for them to return to their own duties as a templar and an assassin.

“I don’t see how that should concern you, father.” Connor shifted, seemingly uncomfortable with telling Haytham anything about his plans. After all, he intended to go back to the Homestead for some time, and then contact his apprentices to see what they managed to learn while he was away. Surely, that was not something he could casually discuss with the Templar Grandmaster. Haytham kept silent though, and eventually Connor felt the need to elaborate. “This mission has taken long enough, I must make sure nothing bad has happened during my absence. Don’t you have any work that needs to be done?”

“Most probably. I was just thinking...” The assassin lifted his gaze from where he kept it on the floor to look at his father instead, expecting him to continue the thought. The older man seemed troubled, if not upset, but otherwise kept his composure, obviously trying to come up with words to express something. It made Connor curious, and perhaps a little anxious as to what has caused such a reaction. Finally, Haytham gathered his thoughts and cleared his throat. “So, I was thinking... whether we could find more ways to align our interests. I know, it is much more complicated than that, and I have long grown out of my naive childish wish to unite Assassin and Templar causes, but you cannot deny that working together we can achieve so much more than if we were to keep this... battle on two fronts.”

Haytham sighed, not having heard any reaction from his son, and unable to see what he was thinking from the blank look on his face.

“Connor, how do you like the idea of forming a truce someday?” Haytham felt like a complete idiot, but there was no way back now. “ And it is not a proposition, mind you, just... a concept. I’m asking if you think it might be beneficial for both of our orders, and the situation in general.”

‘Yes.’ Thought Connor. ‘I’ve been thinking the same way for quite some time now. I would like to try.’

“No.” He said. “This is wishful thinking, father. You know that it is impossible.”

Indeed, ever since the assassin first started occasionally working with his father, he has felt greatly conflicted about the necessity of this war between the Order and the Brotherhood. Of course, the differences had to be fundamental, otherwise this conflict would not have been going on for such a long time. However, even with that in mind, and after seeing, and doubting, his fathers ways and methods, he could not help but wonder if there was really no way of finding a compromise, and, subsequently, of achieving at least some level of peace between the orders.

Nice thought, but it is all there is to it. It sounds good - yet unreachable, said a voice in his head, sounding strangely like Achilles Davenport. And the old man was not exactly wrong, when he accused Connor of letting his sentimentality lead him astray. As much as the young assassin tried to claim he did not trust or like his father, deep inside, he could not deny to himself that it might just have been a lie. Or at the very least a half-truth, born from his desire to get to know this man better, learn how to trust him, to justify why he felt so drawn to him.

And yet, he could not let his feelings rule him and influence decisions that would affect much more than just his own life. So Connor did what he always does: put his own mess of emotions aside and concentrated on responsibilities he has towards so many people. Whether he wished for it or not. It was not about what he wanted, after all, it was about what needed to be done.

“I see.” Haytham replied, drawing the assassin out of his uneasy thoughts. “Perhaps you are right. My apologies.”

Connor searched for his father’s eyes, for some reason desperate to understand what the other thought, and what answer he had expected to hear when he asked that question. Haytham would not look at him.

He had to say it. He had to break these illusions of what they could never have. Better now, this way it would hurt less. Connor felt his throat tighten. 

It hurt anyway, this carefully hidden truth.

***

They haven’t seen each other for a while after that. And even though Connor had not seen Haytham face to face, he somehow always made way into his thoughts. Young assassin would often find himself wondering what the templar was up to, and then trying to justify it to himself, saying he is only being cautious of Templar activity that could damage the Brotherhood, or the war. Trying and failing, since his stubborn mind would always come back to the thoughts of his father, making his excuses sound weak even to himself. He prayed he would never have to explain himself to anyone else.

Connor had just returned to the Homestead after assaulting another fort in the frontier and bringing it under the Patrior influence. He’s heard some troubling news from New York, and could barely keep himself from rushing there to see for himself, but he knew that his recruits were sent there to gather more information, and it made sense for him to wait until they get back. So he waited, busying himself with helping other residents of the Homestead to make his wait more bearable, and to distract himself from thinking about his father too much.

Needless to say, he felt relief, and then restlessness overtaking him upon seeing two of his assassins, Duncan and Jacob, as they were making their way to the mansion. From their report, Connor gathered that the Templars in New York are mobilising, apparently getting ready to act. A group of templars, led by the Grandmaster himself, was supposed to attack Fort Division. His apprentices didn’t have any details of the plan, but Connor suspected the other templars were just a distraction for the guards while Haytham found whatever it is they needed from the Fort. He could play by the same rules.

“Are we going to join the party, Connor?” Jacob asked, clearly eager for a fight. 

Connor didn’t rush with the answer, although he had already made up his mind. He would infiltrate the Fort using the same tactic as his father: having his assassins distract the guards, as well as the templars, so he could find Haytham. But what was he going to do next? He wasn’t certain he wanted to think about it.

“Connor?” Jacob called to him, finally managing to return his Master’s attention back to the issue at hand. Connor nodded, both as a sign that he was listening and as a confirmation to Jacob’s earlier question. 

They gathered the rest of assassins to discuss the plan, and Connor told everyone what he figured would be the best course of action, carefully avoiding the part, where he was supposed to find and stop his father from whatever it is the Templars had planned. Unfortunately, he was not the only one who noticed that. Right before they were all going to get ready for the trip, Duncan stopped their leader with a hand to his shoulder, looking serious and perhaps a little concerned.

“Forgive me, Connor, but I must ask: what is it you intend to do with Grandmaster Kenway? You are going to fight him, aren’t you?”

Six pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly, and Connor paused, realising that his mind was drawing a blank once again. 

‘I don’t want him dead.’ Thought Connor, painfully aware of his growing panic. ‘I cannot kill him. Please, don’t make me kill him.’

“I will fight Haytham Kenway, and I will kill him.” He said, even as he felt sick at the sound of his own voice. 

***

Upon arriving in New York, they took turns in watching the Fort and patrolling the city for any signs that it was time. They didn’t have to wait too long though – before long, they were able to witness Templars at work, silently taking out the guards at the gates, before ambushing the ones inside. They were in the minority, but Connor had no doubt that the guards were in for a lot of trouble. Just enough, to keep them properly distracted...

And sure enough, just when the fight turned into a complete mess, the assassin saw a familiar figure quickly making his way into the Fort. Connor’s heart clenched, but he ignored it to the best of his ability. He signalled his apprentices to join the fight, and hurried to follow his father, trying not to think that he was his target now. Has always been.

It took some time and effort to get through the Fort without getting involved in a fight, or getting hit while avoiding it, but eventually he got away. Making sure he is not followed, Connor ran in the direction of the back yard, shouting for his apprentices to cover the way.

He was late.

When Connor finally found Haytham, the man was standing over the corpse of the Fort’s captain, his hidden blade retracted back with a familiar sound. He had to attack, had to launch forward and take the Templar out before he even saw him... All Connor could do was stand there and stare.

“This bastard would have sold out his troop for a slight chance to get promoted. Not what the army needs.” Said Haytham, interpreting the look on his son’s face as one of reproach and complaint.

Connor opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, maybe voice his disapproval, but really, he couldn’t care less about it now. There was his father, and in just a few moments they would likely fight, and this time one of them would not get out of it alive. This is how it was supposed to go.

Connor absolutely hated it.

“Ah, I guess it is too much to expect of you to try and see things from my perspective. You proved that many times already, haven’t you, Connor.” Haytham stepped over the body and approached the assassin, smirking sourly at him. “Well, since it is so inevitable that we must destroy each other, let’s just get right into it, shall we?”

That was all the warning Connor got, before his father launched himself at him. He didn’t know how exactly he managed to deflect a few hidden blade attacks, given how he could not even think clearly, but soon enough Haytham knocked him off balance. 

“What’s the matter, son, don’t you hate me?” The older man sneered, pinning him to the ground.

‘No.’ Thought Connor.

But couldn’t say anything.

“This time you may want to think better on your last words, Connor. So what will it be?”

Even if he could struggle at this point, turn the situation around, he wouldn’t. Simply because he didn’t know what he would do if he were to succeed. No, perhaps it’s time to let go. 

The assassin looked up at his father as the other man slowly drew out his hidden blade, moving it dangerously close to his throat.

‘I love you.’ Thought Connor.

“I love you.” He said.

Connor couldn’t help but smile at surprise in Haytham’s face, as he finally saw that carefully hidden truth.


End file.
